


Just In Case You Slip

by TVSecretAgent



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVSecretAgent/pseuds/TVSecretAgent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an innocent drink at the George, Ruth and Harry find themselves at the mercy of ex-KGB Rostov Androvich - a long term adversary of Harry's from Russia now released from prison. During the night of their captivity, Ruth and Harry confront the truths that stand between them. When dawn breaks, they find themselves forced to rely on each other's vulnerabilities to survive. Takes place in Season 8 between episode 6 and 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just In Case You Slip

**Author's Note:**

>   
> _Few can escape self-made traps._  
>  _And when a person falls into one, it is_  
>  _natural to call out for help._  
>  _If you attend such a plea, take someone_  
>  _like me along as a safety rope or ladder..._  
>  _just in case you slip._  
>  ~ Hafiz

* * *

“Money is a horrible thing sometimes.” Ruth’s voice cut through the din of extraneous conversations.

Harry swirls his scotch before taking a sip. “Sometimes. But necessary.”

“Like so many of today’s evils,” Ruth agrees. “Necessary, that is.”

Harry seemed deep in contemplation. His usual fire and purpose dulled down to smoldering embers.

“There’s no point in brooding,” she says.

“I know that Ruth. It just… just, reminds me of the frailty of everything.”

“There is great strength too. In our convictions, our actions, our beliefs.”

Harry gazes at her intensely, but with tenderness. Her presence reminds him constantly of how frail things can be. He senses Ruth shift under his gaze, and he excuses himself for another drink before she becomes too uncomfortable.

The George is full tonight. Ruth looks up at the gilded mirrors above the bar, and catches Harry’s reflection. He looks tired, defeated by the politics. Shadows rest under his eyes, and his shoulders slump slightly under the weight of his decisions. She hates to see him this way, and she wishes she could do something to lift his burden.

He makes his way back to her, seated in the corner. Like good spies, they are sitting together facing the door, neither of them willing to put their back to the door. He sits close, but they do not touch. While the drinks are warming, the bar is too crowded for decent conversation. Full of young politicians, GCHQ recruits, and old salts eager to unwind after a day walking the floor. The atmosphere is not helping either of them fully unwind or regroup after such a day. “Harry, let’s get out of here. Go somewhere we can talk.”

“You’re right.” Harry gulped down his scotch. “Let’s head to my place. After today I don’t think I’m going to be able to get up if we head to yours.”

Ruth gathered up her bag and coat and took Harry’s offered hand as he led her outside.

It was raining softly and Ruth slipped on her coat as she left the pub. Flipping up his coat collar, Harry stood close to the street and waved a taxi over. Ever the gentleman, he held the door open for her while she scooted to the far side. The taxi was cold but convenient and Harry’s house wasn’t too far away. Harry gave the address to the driver, then turned his attention to Ruth.

“You’re cold.”

She had forgotten her gloves and her fingers were red, knuckles white. She rubbed her hands together to generate warmth from the fiction. “It will warm up soon. Just a turn in the weather.”

“I’ll turn up the heat when we get in.” It was a statement of fact, he would have done it whether she was there or not.

“I’ll be fine.”

Harry appeared to be on the verge of saying more, but he simply sighed. Years of finely honed instinct had kicked in and they would say no more until they were in a place he was comfortable and felt safe. Ruth gazed out the passenger side window, the amber lights of passing vehicles fuzzy in the rain.

Before long they arrived, and once again Harry offers Ruth a hand to assist her out of the car. She looks up and down the street as he pays the driver and she doesn’t know if she should be surprised or not that the overhead light above his door is unilluminated. He heads up the stairs, keys in hand and Ruth follows closely behind.


End file.
